


Hacker to Hero

by d00dle2013



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bus Kids - Freeform, Daisy Johnson Appreciation Week, F/F, Getting Together, Lots of Cuddling, Medical Jargon, Serious Injuries, lots and lots of angst, with some humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-11 16:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10469409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d00dle2013/pseuds/d00dle2013
Summary: Written for the Daisy Johnson Appreciation weekA series of one shots following Daisy through the years, all tying together in the end. She started as a naive hacker in the back of the van, and has grown into our superhero.Day One: Season 1 SkyeDay Two: Season 2 SkyeDay Three: Season 3 DaisyDay Four: Season 4 DaisyDay five: favorite Daisy FriendshipDay Six: Favorite Daisy ShipDay seven: Free day!





	1. The Hacker in the Van

The Hacker in the Van

For Daisy Johnson Appreciation Week Day one: Season One Daisy/Skye. This is a Bus Kids bonding fic, the first time they go drinking just after the episode 084.

Skye is impulsive when she drinks. FitzSimmons can hold their liquor. Skye gets jealous of something, she isn't sure what, between the two of them, and starts to enjoy the first real friendship she's had in years.

* * *

  
Skye was so in way over her head.  
Infiltrating SHIELD? Who thought THAT was a good idea? Oh right, she did.

Miles had attempted to talk her out of it, talk some sense into her, but did she listen? Of course not. She was Skye, headstrong and never wrong, hacktivist extraordinaire.

Dammit, WHY did she do this?

Now she was living at 10,000 feet above the stable ground with an emotionless she-devil pilot, a robotic specialist asshat, a pair of mad scientist geniuses, and a persuasive walking suit.

But at the moment, Skye is sitting in the bar at the Hub, already quite a bit buzzed, as they wait for the Bus to be repaired after their last… adventure. She's alone, save for the bartender, but she doesn't mind that at all.

It was dangerous, how they kept track of a tab here at whatever SHIELD base that’ve parked at. Skye was given a name tag (“consultant” it said) and told that all food and drink she purchased on base would be taken out of her pay from that card.

Skye had already lost track of how many drinks she had charged to her card. She's not sure how expensive things are, or even how much she gets paid through SHIELD, but right now she doesn't care. She's trying to wash down her shock from the last few days.

She gets a few more drinks down before she hears a familiar voice, familiar voices, enter the bar. Skye turns around to see FitzSimmons entering the bar, laughing.

Jemma perks up when she sees Skye, “Oh, Skye! Hello! Are you having a drink?” She comes up on one side of Skye, and Fitz settles on the other.

Skye nods, “Or two,” she sways a little.

Fitz grins on Skye’s other side and pats her hand, “Excellent, after the day we’ve had, that's what we're here for as well.”

“I hear that one,” Skye murmurs, bringing her drink to her lips.

Jemma pats Skye’s arm, “welcome to SHIELD Skye!”

*

Hours later, Skye, Fitz, and Simmons are all well on their way to drunk. Simmons’ cheeks are rosy, and Fitz’s accent is almost completely impossible to understand, but they're laughing. Skye is laughing with them about nothing, about everything.

“And then, then there's ‘Agent Grant Ward, Robot Porcupine Extraordinaire!” Fitz rambles. Jemma’s head is tilted back in a laugh, a full bellied musical note, Skye notices.

Skye notices other things too, how pretty Jemma’s eyes are, how soft her hair is, and how much she and Fitz move like one entity around one another, the kind of movement that only comes from a true connection with another person. Skye feels a spike of jealousy at the two, and she isn't sure why.

“Hey, Skye,” Fitz interrupts Skye’s thoughts and she starts. She's quite drunk by now.

“Yeah, Fitz?” She counters, blinking playfully.

“You should reach across the bar and grab one of those tapioca balls, the green ones, and eat it. Without the bartender noticing. It would be funny,” Fitz grins, and Simmons elbows him in the ribs.

“Don't encourage her, Fitz!” She scolds him. Fitz cackles.

Skye feels another rush of jealousy and reaches for one of the small balls across the counter, and pops it into her mouth.  
“You really…that’s not exactly meant to be eaten!” the female bartender calls from the other side of the bar.

Oops. She wasn't supposed to see that…

Fitz nearly falls out of his stool as he laughs, “she ate the whole thing, Simmons! I can't believe it!”

Skye chuckles and chews the strange ball as FitzSimmons both snigger.

The bartender walks over, a look of annoyance on her face. “Alright,” she says, holding a hand out, “Who’s tab is this going on?”

Fitz continues laughing as he slaps his SHIELD badge into the woman’s hand.

The bartender scans his badge over the register, “Honestly, Agent Leo Fitz, you should honestly tell her what it's going to do her now.” She shakes her head and starts filling Skye a glass of water.

Skye stops dead, and looks at Fitz, an absolutely panicked look on her face, “Fitz…”  
She already feels a little strange, tingly almost, and her head is starting to clear from the alcohol induced fog.

“Fitz, what did you do to me?”

Fitz continues laughing, but Simmons reaches over and puts her hand on Skye’s arm.

“Don't worry, Skye,” she says, “It's just a medication for SHIELD. A lot of Agents come in here to blow off some steam, have a few drinks, but we are never really off duty. If we are here, drinking, and we get called onto an emergency mission, we need to be able to be clear of mind. So a group of biochemists at the Academy came up with this little medication. It blocks the effects of the ethanol in drinks, and flushes out your system. And then bam, good as new in 20 minutes or less.”

Skye’s mouth drops, “So this will make me sober?” She says, annoyance evident in her tone. She already feels more sober, more clear headed. Jemma nods.

Skye slams her hand on the bar, “Dammit! I came down here to get drunk, and now I'm going to be sober again?”

This time, the bartender laughs, “No worries kid. Give it 20 minutes, you’ll really need to use the restroom then, then come back and get drunk again on your buddy’s dime. It's only fair.”

Fitz nods and pats Skye on the back, “she's right Skye. I was only playing with ya. You’ll be safe to drink again after you pass all of the medicine here in about 20 minutes.”

The bartender winks at Skye, “Honestly, you're the not the first one he's gotten with that, babe. He and Simmons invented them. They get everyone.”  
She walks away to clean some more glasses.

Skye looks at FitzSimmons in shock, “you guys invented these?” They both nod, smirking cockily. Skye groans, putting her head down on the surface of the bar, “I made friends with two mad scientists!”

*

Only later, after the three of them stumble back to the repaired bus, drunk off their asses, does Fitz apologize.

The three of them stop outside of Skye’s bunk, leaning against both sides of her door.

“I'm sorry, Skye. I didn't mean to upset you earlier. It's just how I-”

“How he shows affection, Skye. He only-”

“I only mess with people that I like,” Fitz finishes. He smiles at her, “And I'm just really glad that you've joined us here on the Bus.”

Jemma runs her hand down Skye’s arm, “we both are! Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to head to bed. The room is a bit spiny.”

FitzSimmons both bid their good nights, and Skye stumbles her way into bed. She simply pulls off her pants and her shirt and collapses into bed. She's thoroughly sloshed, again, and her room has a slight spin to it. But tonight was the most fun she's had in a few years.

She rephrased her original thoughts about being trapped on the bus. She was on the bus with an emotionless she-devil pilot, a robotic specialist asshat, a persuasive walking suit, and two friends. And friends, friends she could stand to be stuck with.


	2. Gauntlets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three days after the events on the ship during the season 2 finale, Skye is laid up in med bay, the monolith hasn't been delivered to the playground yet, Cal is locked up until TAHITI can be prepared, Coulson is mourning the loss of his hand, and Bobbi still has a blood morphine level. 
> 
> But Jemma, Jemma has a gift for Skye.
> 
> Day Two of Daisy Johnson appreciation week

Gauntlets

 

*

It's been two days, and Skye still doesn't feel any better than when she was checked in to the medbay after collapsing during the long flight back to base.

She remembers waking up slowly in the playground med bay, connected to monitors with a splitting headache. Now it's been two days, and she still doesn't feel strong enough to move around much on her own. She has to have help to get from her small medical cubicle to the patient bathroom not more than 25 feet away from her bed.

Jemma says it's a combination of the concussion she sustained while fighting and the damage that her mom did to her on the carrier.

No matter what is actually causing it, Skye is sick of it.

And that's how she finds herself in her current situation. Skye is stuck leaning against the wall somewhere between her hospital bed and the bathroom, having completely exhausted herself trying to get there alone. Her face is emptied of color and her breathing is ragged as she tries to catch her breath, leaning heavily on the IV pole for support. Skye glances her pulse on the monitor attached to her arm, thankful that the alarms have been disconnected, as it hovers somewhere around 120 bpm.

And this is where Jemma finds her when she slips into the lab, a long box tucked up under her arm, “And what do you think you're doing?” She asks, sounding suspiciously like a mother. Skye groans, feeling exactly like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“I had to pee, Simmons, and I'm tired of having to call you, or a tech, or fucking Hunter to help escort me to the bathroom!” Skye gripes, throwing her hand up into the air, using the other one to grip the IV pole for support.

Jemma makes a clicking noise with her tongue, and sets the box down next to where Skye is leaning on the wall. “Let's get you to the bathroom then, okay?” She ducks under Skye’s arm and wraps and arm around her waist to help hold her up as Skye walks. “Or I would be perfectly happy to arrange for someone to bring a portable toilet, or even a catheterize you for another day or two so that you can gain your strength back,” Jemma smirks, glancing over to Skye.

Skye groans and shakes her head, “No thanks. I think I'd rather have to use the bedpan in front of Hunter 500 more times than have another catheter put in…”

Jemma chuckles, “But you have to rest Skye. If you don't rest, you won't heal.”

Skye sighs deeply, “I know, Jemma, I'm just tired of not being able to do anything for myself.”

Jemma nods and opens the door to the bathroom, “Do you need me to come in with you, or can you handle it on your own?” She asks, cocking one eyebrow.

“No, I can-- I just--” Skye drops her head, “Yeah…”

Jemma laughs out loud and helps her friend into the small private bathroom, pulling the IV pole up beside the toilet. She steps back outside the door, “Let me know when you're done or if you need me again.”

Skye nods and Jemma shuts the door, leaning her head on the door to be able to hear Skye if she needs her.

Jemma is suddenly very nervous to give Skye the present that in the box she brought. She had managed to convince Fitz that she could be the one to present Skye with the Gauntlets that the two of them have been working at for the last 3 days. Fitz knew that Jemma needed a victory with Skye, because even though the two seemed to be on speaking terms again, there was an Inhuman sized rift between them that hadn't previously been there. Jemma needed to reach out and pull her best friend back in.

Jemma quickly reached in her lab coat pocket to check for the other gift that she brought Skye, her next dose of pain medicine.

Jemma hears the flush of the toilet beyond the door and a grunt from Skye, so she cracks the door.

“Skye,” she says through the crack, “Are you decent?”

Skye gives a soft affirmative, “Yeah,” from the room and Jemma steps in.

Skye is leaning against the sink, both hands in a white knuckled grip on the edge of the porcelain, her eyes scrunched tight and a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Jemma sighs a little, “Do you need help, Skye?” Skye nods wordlessly and Jemma gingerly wraps her arm around Skye’s waist, giving her support so that she can finish washing her hands.

The two Agents don't speak as Jemma helps Skye back into her bed, Jemma, out of nervousness, and Skye out of trying to ignore the pain in her head and In her chest and in her shoulders, and in her arms.

Jemma checks Skye over, adjusting the fluids in her IV drip, and taking her vitals.

“Your heart rate is high, Skye,” Jemma says to Skye, fussing over her a little, “one a scale of 1-10, how what number would you give the amount of pain you're in?”

Skye grimaces a little. “Um, a four,” she lies. In reality, quite a bit of pain has settled into her bones in the last few hours.

Jemma glances over her tablet at Skye, taking in the grimace on her face and the sweat on her face forehead, she scowls at Skye. “Want to try that one again, Skye?” She asks again.

Skye sighs, “Fine, it's more like a 6 or a 7. My head is worse.”

Jemma pulls the pain medication from her pocket and places the two pills into Skye’s hand, grabbing the water cup off of the tray next to the bed. Skye looks Jemma in the eyes and dry swallows the pills. She grimaces.

“Yeah, you deserved that one, Skye,” Jemma mutters, pushing the water into Skye's hands anyway. “Drink,” she scolds.

“And there’s Doctor Simmons.” Skye murmurs, taking a sip of the lukewarm water. “Cold, clinical and proper,” Skye smirks and takes another sip of water.

“And very in control of your medical care, mind you,” Jemma teases, her back turned to Skye as she writes notes in the chart.

Skye sighs, reflecting on the situation. This was not how she wanted Jemma’s visit to her medical cube to go, but this is what always seemed to happen. They would snip at each other, almost teasing like they used to, but with a sharper bite to it, like they were hiding pain from one another. Skye just wanted her and Jemma to be back to normal, she missed her best friend.

Jemma picks up the box from the floor and sits on the end of Skye’s bed. She gives her friend a non-medical once over, taking in how tired Skye looks, how she sits with her legs crossed, a little hunched over, fidgeting her hands in anxiety.

Jemma takes a deep breath and holds the box out to Skye, “Here, this is from both Fitz and I. We want you to have these,” Jemma says quickly. She pushes the box into Skye’s hands.

Skye takes the box from Jemma and pulls the top open. She pulls one of the metal gauntlets from the box and runs her fingers over the cool metal.

“Fitz helped me making my thoughts a reality, but the truth is, I designed these to help you control your powers, so you won't hurt yourself, and to make them so you could use them to help people. I managed to convince him to let me give them to you… because, well because I needed to show you how much I support you.”

Skye’s eyes are filled with tears as she runs her fingers along the metal of the gauntlets, “They don't suppress my powers?” She asks nervously, after a moment.

Jemma reaches forward and takes Skye’s hand in hers, “No, no they don't Skye. There's no more suppressing your powers, only helping you control them. I just don't want you to ever have to deal with microfractures again.”

A tear escapes Skye's eye and runs down her cheek. She sets the gauntlets on the bed and leans forward and wraps her arms around Jemma in a hug. Tears stream down her face as she pushes her face into Jemma’s shoulder. “Thank you, Jemma,” she whispers.

Jemma returns the embrace, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. She holds her best friend close. “I'm so sorry, Skye, I'm so sorry for everything. I'm sorry that I left you. And I am so sorry about your mum. You deserve so much better.”

Skye doesn't say anything for awhile, her face pressed into Jemma’s shoulder, breathing in her comforting scent, Jemma rubbing soothing circles on her back. It feels nice, taking her mind off of her pain, both physical and emotional.

They stay like for a little while, both women wrapped in the embrace. It's cathartic for them both, seeking comfort in their best friend, and for Skye, rediscovering the belonging of being with Jemma, and for Jemma, finding Skye’s forgiveness for all that she’d done.

The pain medication starts to set into Skye’s limbs, making them heavy and fuzzy, and Jemma tucks her back into her hospital bed, laying a kiss on her forehead.

Skye is strong enough to be released from medical 2 days later. She takes a trip with Coulson to see her dad’s new place of residence.

And Jemma disappears into the depths of the Monolith.

And everything starts to change.

 


	3. Metamorphosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy is having trouble getting used to her new name. She's having trouble dealing with Jemma being gone. Season 3 Daisy. Short, stream of consciousness.

Chapter 3: Metamorphosis

 

 

*

So much has happened in the last few weeks, and it leaves Skye scrambling for purchase on things that she previously assumed that she had a solid grasp on.

Her identity, for example.

Going from the orphan called Skye, to having both of her parents, back to orphaned in only a month spun her head around faster than Fitz could ever calculate with an equation. She has called herself Skye for so many years, but that person was left behind in the rubble of the Kree Temple, left behind in the dust that was once Antoine Triplett.

She had only felt confident in the name change for a few days. It was something that she’s been throwing around in her mind since learning the name that her mother and father had always meant for her, but it was not until she stood in front of the veterinary shelter watching her father that the name finally became hers.

Even with that decision, Daisy finds herself still trying to log into her computer with the name “Skye”, or not responding to the calls of “Daisy!” being called down the halls of the Playground.

She has even taken to leaving herself sticky notes around the areas that she spends the most time.

“Your name is Daisy Johnson” The notes say, posted with Fitz’s specially formulated super sticky notes to her mirror, computer, and even the walls in her bunk. She practices introducing herself with her new name while in the shower, while brushing her teeth in the morning.

As confused and conflicted as she sometimes is, the guise of “Daisy Johnson” feels so right with the transformations she had undergone in such a short time. It is the name that was always intended for her.

The entirety of the Playground feels empty. May taking a Vacation leave means that there was no one to push her further in a sparring match. Bobbi having to spend her time doing rehab means that her back up trainer was not there to help out. Simmons being currently MIA means that the comfort of her best friend is nowhere to be found.

Sometimes, especially when Daisy is in the gym, sparring or working with a punching bag, she finds herself daydreaming about how she will tell Jemma about her new name if--when she comes back.

She knows how seeing her again will most likely go, Jemma will see her, and let out an excited “Oh! Hello, Skye!” And Daisy will reach out and hug her, and the two will hold on to each other, a little longer than a casual hug, but not quite enough to be an embrace, and then Daisy will need to tell her that she goes by Daisy now. And Jemma, Jemma will understand Daisy’s need to take on that new identity and do her best to remember to call her by the correct name. (It's more than Coulson has been doing. She loves the man like a father, but he just can't seem to get her name right, he can't let go of the girl she once was).

It's hard sometimes, she thinks, to be the strong one, especially with all of the things that have changed the last few weeks.

Daisy has been on call many of the days as Fitz experiences emotional outburst after emotional outburst, often scaring the laboratory technicians out of the lab. He is handling Jemma’s disappearance the least healthy of all of the team. Daisy does her part to be sure that he eats, and that he leaves the lab to try and sleep, but she can only do so much, especially when she is dealing with her own struggles.

The Playground is horribly silent, and Daisy hates every second of it. But it lets her think, it lets her reflect on things as she takes her excess energy out on the punching bag.

Daisy collapses into the heavy bag, heaving for breath. She's going to tell Jemma when she’s home, she's going to tell Jemma what she should have told her a long time ago.

*

Daisy doesn't tell Jemma when she returns from the planet.

Because first, there’s trying to nurse her back to health. Then, there’s Lash, and then there’s Lincoln and feelings and maybe she was just imagining what was happening before?

Daisy never tells Jemma, because there’s one thing that happens after another. There's never time to talk, because Daisy is always off chasing down other Inhumans, or trying to keep on the tail of the ACTU, or Fitz and Jemma fighting to find Will.

So many things change so quickly that Daisy never has that chance to talk to Jemma about everything that needs to be said.

And then Hive happens, and Daisy knows that she didn't imagine anything, but it doesn't matter anymore, because she's complete. She's found what's she's always been looking for and nothing else matters.

Until she loses it.

Daisy is whole, and complete, and doing what she was meant to do when she was designed by the Kree, and she's so happy to be doing it.

Until she's not, and she's hurt everyone that she loves so terribly that she can't bear to look at them.

When that quinjet explodes in the distance, something breaks inside Daisy that she doesn't think can ever be repaired. Daisy doesn't even know if she's Daisy anymore, just as she knew that she ceased being Skye.

So then Daisy leaves.

Daisy leaves because of the things that she's done.

Daisy leaves because the grief is too much to bear.

Daisy leaves because she sees Jemma and Fitz together, touches lingering a little longer than they should, she catches them sneaking in and out of each other’s rooms, she hears whispering of rumors from the lab technicians.

Daisy leaves because she loved Lincoln, and Lincoln sacrificed himself for her.

Daisy leaves because she's in love with Jemma Simmons.

 

 

 


	4. Let me stand next to your fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the part where we diverge from cannon, in just a little way, and that will drive the rest of the story.
> 
> This takes place in episode 4x04, Let Me Stand Next to Your Fire, and diverges in the dialogue. You’ll catch it.

*

Daisy has been watching Jemma’s searches online for apartments. And she concocted her idea of how to finally get in contact with her best friend for help.

She hates having to ask them for help, after all she's already put them through, but not even Daisy can hack SHIELD well enough anymore. They seem to have taken her security protocols and improved upon them. Which sucks.

And now, now she's hurt pretty badly. Her arm is splintered, and she now sprints full tilt away from the Watchdogs, the bullet in her shoulder reminding her of how careless she is.

She can barely make it up the stairs to the second floor apartment that she's rented out, under Jemma’s name, for the next year (An extra few hundred dollars seems to be a satisfactory answer for some people’s questions these days). Daisy stumbles through the front door and manages to swing it closed with her foot before she collapses on the floor in a heap. Her broken arm throbs, but the pain from the breaks are drowned out by the screaming of the bullet in her shoulder. She lays there for a moment, trying to regain control of herself, and she sits back up.

Daisy checks her flip phone for the time, only half an hour until Jemma shows up for the showing of the apartment that she scheduled yesterday. Daisy reaches into her pocket to be sure that the list of Inhumans was still in her pocket.

She has half an hour to get the bleeding to stop.

She sits on the sink, her head turned so that she can see her wound in the mirror as she tries to pull out the hunk of metal. She can feel it beneath her skin, moving around beneath the surface, as she tries to pop it out of the skin. (It's really much harder with this broken arm, she only has full control over a few of the fingers, the rest kind of hang there).

Daisy hears the door swing open as she finally gets the metal to peak out of the skin and fall into the sink.

“Shit!” She swears aloud. Had it really already been half an hour?

“Hello? I'm here about the apartment?”

Jemma’s voice makes Daisy’s stomach glitter in excitement. It's been 7 months, and she almost can't wait to see her again.

Daisy quietly creeps from the bathroom as Jemma walks into the apartment, ICER drawn in front of her. Daisy’s strength finally gives out, and she falls back against the open door, causing Jemma to spin around and point the ICER at her.

“Sorry,” Daisy gets out, “I didn't know where else to turn.” And she slides down the door, knowing that she probably left a trail of blood the entire way down.

The throb in her shoulder increases to an unmanageable crescendo as Jemma gasps out “Daisy!” And Daisy’s world blacks out for a moment.

*

Daisy comes around a few moments later, lying on her back with a fussing Brit leaning over her.

“Daisy, what happened?” She sputters when she sees Daisy’s eyes open.

“I got shot, Jem,” she smirks.

“Well, obviously! Jemma replies, exasperated. She helps Daisy sit up, and starts pulling items out of her purse.

“Daisy, do you have a first aid kit?”

Daisy shakes her head, “not really. Just some vodka and Tylenol.”

Jemma stands up, “Well, excuse me one moment. I need to run to the car to retrieve my first aid kit.”

Daisy sighs, and Jemma’s presence leaves the room.

It's only a few minutes later but Jemma returns, tossing a bag into the center of the room, “You said that you have vodka?”

Daisy motions toward her bag in the kitchen area with her head, “front pocket of the backpack,” she says between clenched teeth.

“Ah, yes, got it. Thank you,” Jemma walks back over to Daisy and kneels behind her. She rolls up her sleeves and starts pulling first aid equipment out of the first aid bag. She places pressure on the wound for a moment while she gathers her suture supplies. She disinfects the area, ignoring the hiss of pain from Daisy, applies one of SHIELD’s local anesthetics, and starts stitching the wound.

Jemma finishes the sutures in silence, and picks up a piece gauze, “Whoever took this bullet out did an awful job,” she says, teasing Daisy.

Daisy sighs deeply, “I don't get an ‘A’ for effort?”

Jemma continues to treat the wound on Daisy’s back. “You haven't been to a proper doctor?” She asks, already knowing the answer.

Daisy smirks, “you’re hard to get an appointment with.”

Jemma scoffs, laughing a little bit. She hadn't realized how much she missed this banter between her and Daisy. She quickly changes the subject.

“I knew this place was too good to be true,” she says, dabbing gently at Daisy’s shoulder, “you’ve been tracking my search history.”

Daisy hisses in pain when the alcohol touches her back, it burns more than she thought it would.

“Yeah, well, you were always a sucker for a breakfast nook. But don't worry-- the place is yours. And it's rent controlled now, so…”

Jemma should have guessed, “you really should not have--”

“Yeah, yeah. You also looked for only one bedroom places. How are things going with Fitz?”

Jemma stops, breath hitching in her throat, “Fitz and I,” she drops her hands for a moment, “Fitz and I aren't really Fitz and I anymore, Daisy.”

Daisy turns around to look at Jemma, face a mask of shock, “Oh, Jemma… I am so sorry...”

Jemma cuts Daisy off, “No, it's alright Daisy. We have it a try, let ourselves enjoy each other. But it just didn't work for him.” She looks down, away from Daisy, “He called it off. He didn't want to try anymore.”

Jemma puts a hand on Daisy’s shoulder to turn her around to finish dressing her wound. Daisy, numbly, allows herself to be turned away from her friend. She doesn't know what to say, so she takes a drink of the vodka instead.

“Oh, self medicating,” Jemma changes the subject suddenly, “Those bone restoration pills you've been stealing don't relieve pain. Are you using your arm gauntlets? They don't work perfectly, but we specifically designed them so that they--”

“They're not exactly incognito,” Daisy interrupts, slightly annoyed that Jemma is making this about her, and not how her apparent soul mate called things off. “Stop mothering me, please,” she adds.

Jemma sighs, and places the last piece of tape on Daisy’s back, “There. Now you can get back to Lone Rangering or whatever it is you’re doing.” Jemma stands up and takes off her soiled gloves.

Daisy takes another shot of the alcohol, trying to numb the pain, “Not yet.” Daisy stands up with great effort.

“I didn't come to you just for the Band-Aids,” she says, reaching into her pocket. “I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone.”

Jemma looks at her, puzzled. “Am I the bird or the stone?” She asks, taking the slip of paper out of Daisy’s outstretched hands.

Jemma opens the paper up, reading around the blood splatter and dirt, and she knows what these are. “These are--”

“Inhuman asset number and GPS coordinates,” Daisy interrupts.

Jemma looks up in shock, “why do you have these?”

“Snagged them from a group of Watchdogs on my way here. Got a bullet for my trouble,” Daisy responds. “They're hacking into SHIELD servers. That's how they find their victims.”

Jemma shakes her head, “Impossible. SHIELD servers are more secure now than they've ever been. They’re held offline in protected government facilities to --”

Daisy knows where this is going, “Keep out people like me? Yeah, well they're getting in somehow. And,” she swallows hard, “I need you to do the same for me…”

Jemma looks taken aback, slightly confused. “You want me to help you hack my own organization?”

“Simmons, they're targeting Inhumans. They are murdering us,” Daisy spits.

“There are protocols, Daisy. I take mandatory lie-detection tests. I can't just voluntarily aid a wanted vigilante,” Jemma says desperately. She wanders for a second, looking for something else to tidy up before the continue the conversation.

Daisy has an idea. She starts in excitement, and picks up Jemma’s ICER. She points it at her friend, finger far from the trigger. “What if it wasn't voluntary?” She quips with a grin.

Jemma sighs deeply, “I've missed you, too.”

Daisy has missed Jemma terribly, more than words can describe. And as they load themselves up into Daisy’s van, she can't help but send an extra look to Jemma, who is staring out the window, her thoughts far away.

Daisy reaches over with her good hand and squeezes Jemma’s in comfort, “I'm glad to see you, Jem. Let's go have some bad girl shenanigans, yeah?”

Jemma smiles, squeezing Daisy’s hand, “Yeah.”

*

Later, as James bears down on their position in the storage pod, Jemma’s arm protectively around her waist, Daisy let’s herself feel the warmth of the woman that she had fallen in love with so many months ago for the first time since Lincoln slipped away. Not just the physical warmth of her body, but warmth that filled a spot that she had forgotten was even empty at all.


	5. Paperwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 of Daisy Johnson appreciation week, Friendship. Here is a one shot about the FitzDaisy friendship somewhere in season 4, after Daisy rejoins SHIELD. It's a little bit lighter and a little. More playful, but there is some angst in here. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Paperwork

 

*

Daisy had too much paperwork to do. Payroll forms, social security application, SHIELD healthcare plan paperwork. She walks down the halls of the Playground, wondering why she ever agreed to come back and leave her van.

She rounds the corner to the hallway where the team’s offices are located. She passes Fitz’s office, noticing an open door. She shrugs a little and goes back to looking at the questionnaire for social security. She passes Mack’s office, a small room with a desk where Mack hides when paperwork needs to be done, when she hears giggling through the cracked door. It was a very un-Mack-like giggle. Daisy stops walking and pokes her head into the door, “Mack…?”

Fitz starts from his position crouched position next to Mack’s office chair and bangs his head on the desk, “Jesus, Daisy!”

Daisy slips into the room and shuts the door behind her, muffling her laughter with her hand.

“Fitz, what are you doing?”

Fitz rubs his head where he banged it on the desk, “I'm loosening the screws on Mack’s chair. So when he sits, the chair will,” he giggles again, and makes a sharp POP noise with his mouth, motioning that the chair will tip over backward.

Daisy shakes her head, laughing. It's been so long since she's seen Fitz in this mood, the goofy kid that she meant on the Bus so long ago.

“Fitz, that isn't going to work,” she gets out. The flabbergasted look on Fitz's face makes her laugh all the harder, doubling over.

“Are you questioning my abilities as an engineer?” He spits out.

Daisy shakes her head, “No! Of course not!” She puts her hand on the back of the chair, “it's just that Mack does the spiny thing with the chair before he sits down.”

She spins the chair around in a circle, much like Mack’s routine before he sits in the chair. The chair makes it halfway through the spin before it collapses down a click.

Fitz groans, standing up and putting his hands on his hips. “He will notice that immediately. How did I not think of that?”

Daisy can't help herself, she's laughing harder than she has in months. Fitz starts to laugh as well, more at Daisy than at the situation. And they laugh, laugh until tears are streaming from their eyes.

Daisy drops down to the ground beside Mack’s desk, Fitz falling down beside her, chuckles fading away now.

They sit in silence for a moment, until Fitz reaches over and grabs Daisy’s hand. Daisy takes a sharp intake of air.

“I’ve missed this Daisy,” he says quietly.

And just like that, Daisy is falling apart. Tears start slowly, but come faster, and she's suddenly wrapped tightly in Fitz’s arms, sobbing into his shoulder.

He rubs her back in slow circles, muttering soothing words to her. She apologizes over and over, fingers gripping his shirt. He's so comforting to her and it hurts. She doesn't deserve this. She doesn't deserve his comfort, or his friendship.

The tears slow after a while, and Fitz holds her to his chest.

“It's okay, Daisy. I am so sorry for the things that I said. I was hurting, and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have done that,” the vibrations from his chest are soothing to Daisy, a comforting sound that she used to seek. It grounds her, it keeps her from disconnecting with the world around her.

Daisy keeps her head pressed against Fitz’s chest. “I'm sorry about you and Jemma,” she says, and she feels Fitz take in a sharp breath, as though on pain.

“Yeah. I am too, Daisy. We tried, we really did, but it's just not meant to be. The universe wants something else. Jemma, wants someone else.”  
He smooths down Daisy’s hair, wrapping his arm around her. They sit in silence for a moment.

“I love you, Fitz, i’m sorry that I left,” Daisy finally says. She needs to say it, for him to know how much his friendship means to her. But he knows, he really does know.

“I know, Daisy. I love you, too,” he mutters, wrapping both arms around her in an embrace. “And I am so glad that you are home,” he murmurs, placing a kiss on the crown of her head.

They sit there for a moment, silent, with nothing else to say.

Daisy finally breaks the comfortable silence. She pulls away from Fitz’s chest and looks him in the eyes, “Fitz, I have an idea. But in order for me to tell you, you have to help me with this paperwork.”

Fitz grins, his eyes red, “You’ve got a deal.”

*  
“Ugh! Fitz, why did I ever leave my van? It was comfortable and off the grid!”

Fitz looks at her, cocking one eyebrow, “Really? Comfortable?”

Daisy roll her eyes and flops her upper body down on her desk, “Okay, so it wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was off the grid, and had no paperwork to deal with!”

Fitz laughed again, patting Daisy on the back, “It’s just the beauty of the bureaucratic beast.”

Fitz and Daisy hear footsteps coming down the hallway, and they both freeze and turn around to glance out of Fitz's office door, which they have left open just a crack. Mack’s unmistakable bulk passes by the door, his deep voice filtering in as he hums (Elena must be on base, Daisy muses).

They poke their heads out the door when he’s past, and try to withhold the giggles bubbling over as Mack enters his door. They can hear the squeak of his chair as he spins in around. The anticipation is building, and a loud, resounding horn blares through the hallway, followed by a manly yell, and a crash.

“FITZ! TREMORS!” Mack’s voice booms down the hall.

“Go, go!” Daisy yells, and Fitz and Daisy run down the hall to the stairs, laughing the entire way. 


	6. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: The mission does not go as planned, and neither do the conversations.
> 
>  
> 
> This is it, the chapter that started it all, and brings it all together.
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my Lindy, who encourages my writing habit.

 

 

*

 

Daisy comes back to consciousness with a start, gasping for air. She's lying on her back, a heavy layer of dust settling on everything around her. There's a sharp pain in her left side that tells her that she probably has some broken ribs, and a splitting headache that suggests that she has taken a good knock to the head.

 

Daisy sighs deeply, wrapping her right arm around her screaming ribs and laying her left arm over her eyes to block out the too bright light. She shakes her head a little to clear her thoughts, and tries to reach out her senses to gauge her surroundings. A low grade buzz sounds in her ears, but other than that, it's silent.

 

Daisy racks her brain, trying to remember where she was, and how she got there. The last thing she remembers is a mission to retrieve intel from an abandoned factory, and an explosion, and…

 

“SIMMONS!” Daisy yells as she sits bolt upright. Her yell is cut off as her ribs and head adamantly protest the movement, and she collapses back onto the dirty floor, groaning in pain.

 

 _Yep, broken ribs_ , Daisy thinks when her vision flashes white.

 

“Daisy?” Simmons’ voice comes from nearby, cut off by a cough.

 

“I'm over here, Simmons!” Daisy calls out. Her ribs throb too painfully to try to sit again.

 

“Daisy?” The voice is much closer now, and Daisy turns her head to see Simmon’s head poke over a half collapsed wall. She has dust in her hair, and a trickle of blood running down from her hairline to her jawbone. She gasps in shock when she spots Daisy, and moves toward her friend with a limp in her gait. Daisy feels like she blinks and Simmon’s hands are on her, feeling for injuries.

 

“Daisy, where are you hurt?” She asks, breathless, running her hands down Daisy’s sides. Daisy hisses in pain when Jemma passes over her last three ribs on her left side. It's enough to answer Jemma’s question.

 

“I think your ribs are broken, Daisy,” Jemma says, looking concerned, "I need to open up your jacket to take a look.”

 

Daisy nods, and touches where blood has started to dry on Jemma’s cheek. “I know the drill,” she says cryptically.

 

Jemma unzips Daisy’s jacket and pulls up the black tank she wears underneath, hissing at the purple bruises already forming on her ribs. She pushes on Daisy’s sternum, Daisy cries out and curls toward the injured ribs. Jemma’s mouth stretches into a firm line.

 

“Alright, probably broken then. I had a field medical kit with me before… whatever happened. I'm going to go try and find it. Don't move until I get back,” she directs back at Daisy, slowly standing up.

 

Daisy tries to take stock of her body and her surroundings. She knows that her head is pounding relentlessly, and that makes it harder to focus.

 

Jemma comes back, a torn medical bag over her shoulder. She kneels down next to Daisy, helps her sit up and moves her to sit against the nearby wall.

 

Jemma opens the medical bag and digs around. She's able to pull out a few bottles of water, a blister pack of painkillers, and a few instant ice bags. She tears open the blister pack and puts them in Daisy’s hand. “Here, take these,” she says, handing her a water bottle as well. Daisy obliges without any fuss, knowing that Jemma is in Doctor Simmons mode, and there’s no defying her.

 

Jemma dabs at the blood on Daisy’s forehead, bandaging the cuts and other injuries that Daisy sustained in the explosion without speaking. She wraps Daisy's injured ribs, and finally settles the bow cold ice packs around Daisy’s injuries, her brows furrowed in concentration. This is Doctor Simmons, cold and clinical. 

 

Daisy is having trouble holding herself upright. The pain in her head is making her want to just lie down and close her eyes, but she knows she shouldn't. She can't pinpoint why, but she knows that someone, somewhere has told her not to sleep after a head injury. She keeps finding herself tilting forward as her body wants to doze off. She hopes that Jemma hurries up, she wants to lie down and sleep.

 

“Daisy, do you want to lie down?” Jemma asks softly, finishing up bandaging the wound on Daisy’s head. “You can put your head on my lap if you like, it might be more comfortable.”

 

Daisy hesitates, it's not like they haven't cuddled before (but usually Fitz is on the other side of Jemma, and it's a movie night), but Daisy doesn't quite feel in control of her tongue currently. Daisy opens her mouth to politely decline, but, instead, she says, “That sounds so fantastic.”

 

 _Dammit, Daisy,_ She scolds herself.

 

Jemma smiles, her face lighting up, “Alright! Hold on just a moment, I'm going to pull a few more water rations and my firearm over here so we don't need to move for a while.”

 

Jemma slips the gun into her holster and picks up the medical kit nearby.

 

Something about the gun catches Daisy’s eye. “That's not an ICER, is it Jem?” She asks

 

Jemma shakes her head, not saying anything.

 

Daisy blinks in shock a few times. “Since when did you become such a badass and start carrying an actual gun? I thought you weren't comfortable with that?”

 Jemma’s eyes get a little further away, “Well, sometimes trauma changes you,” she mutters darkly. Daisy chooses not to respond to that.

 Jemma settles herself down next to Daisy, leaning against the half collapsed wall and Daisy gladly lays her head down in her lap. Jemma brings her hand up and plays with Daisy’s hair. “Go ahead and close your eyes for a little bit. I'll be here to wake you up soon,” she says soothingly.

"With a head injury?" Daisy asks, furrowing her brow. Jemma smiles and strokes Daisy's forehead with her fingers. 

"There's no empirical evidence that it's bad, And you can barely stay awake. I'm here to monitor your condition," Jemma says softly. She continues to stroke Daisy's forehead around the gauze, and it just feels so calming. 

Daisy closes her eyes, and lets herself drift off.

 

*

 

“Hey Daisy,” a familiar voice starts clearing the fog of sleep around Daisy. “Hey I need you to open your eyes for me.”

Daisy blinks her eyes open, her head is resting on something comfortable, but her ribs are pained and breathing only makes it worse.

 

Jemma slowly comes into focus, “Hey there, how are you feeling?” Jemma asks softly.

 

“Hurts,” Daisy grunts, groaning a little.

 

“I know, would you like some water?”

 

Daisy nods, and Jemma helps Daisy sit up, careful of her ribs, and leans her against the wall. A bottle of water is pushed into her hands. Daisy drinks, enjoying the feeling of the cool water on her throat.

 

“How long was I asleep?” Daisy asks after a moment.

 

“About half an hour, it's starting to get dark and I wanted to make sure that I could still wake you. I think you have a concussion,” Jemma replies.

 

“Have we missed check in yet?” Daisy asks.

 

Jemma glances at her watch, “Check in is in half an hour, we should expect them to come flying in to rescue us soon. I hope.” They lapse into silence again as Jemma zones out.

 

“How are you feeling, Jemma?” Daisy asks quietly, trying to break the tension in the air.

“I'm doing alright. I think that my ankle might be sprained, but I took some pain reliever and I'm feeling okay.”

 

The two women are silent again.

 

“So how long have you been carrying a standard edition SHIELD side arm for?” Daisy asks Jemma, not being able to stand the quiet any longer. The buzzing in her ears is driving her mad.

 

Jemma shrugs, “The first time I carried one was in Los Angeles, with the whole Eli Morrow situation? The director insists that I carry a lethal sidearm if I accompany any teams on missions. His reasoning, and I quote, is ‘If it gets to the point that you should have to fire a shot, it better be lethal because your team will be dead.’”

Daisy rolls her eyes, it sounds like something Mace would insist on.

“Do you remember when you had to start carrying a sidearm?” Jemma continues. She seems less spaced out now, more with it.

“Yeah, I do. The first time Ward handed me one, I thought I was going to shoot myself in the foot," Daisy chuckles at the memories of her mixing up the magazine eject and the safety, and is surprised at how far she's come in the last few years. "Wow, that feels like it was a completely different person,” Daisy replies, looking off somewhere beyond Jemma.

“I mean, you're not so different,” Jemma smiles, reaching over and poking Daisy’s cheek affectionately.

“I am different now,” Daisy says, looking away, “you said it yourself, trauma changes us. And God if the both of us haven’t had trauma the last few years.”

 

Jemma pulls her hand back, “Yeah, that we have. You aren't the hacker we pulled from the van anymore.”

 

Daisy giggles, “And you aren't the goofy, genius lab rat that I fell in love with.”

 

Both women stop dead, Jemma's eyes are wide in shock and Daisy covers her mouth. Had she just said that out loud? How had that slipped out?

 

Jemma looks at Daisy, her mouth slightly open, “Daisy… did you just say… that you fell in love with me?”

 

Daisy nods, not taking her hand off of her mouth.

 

Jemma stands up and starts to pace q few steps at a time, crossing and uncrossing her arms.

 

Daisy can tell that Jemma is holding something back, and Daisy has already gone on a self-destructive streak for the day, so why stop here?

 

“What, Simmons? What do you have to say?” She tries to say calmly, it comes out as more of a strained squeak. 

 

A dam finally bursts in Simmons’ chest, and she's practically yelling, “You left me! You left me after I had just gotten you back from Hive, and when I was still reeling from things not working out with Fitz, and you wouldn't let me in to help you deal with the loss of Lincoln! Because I was hurting from his loss, too.” Tears are running down Jemma’s face as the grief she's been suppressing for 8 months finally breaks through.

 

Jemma puts her head into her hands, continuing to pace, “and now, after things finally start to slow down, you're telling me that you used to be in love with me?”

 

Tears pool in the corners of Daisy’s eyes. This is what she knew would happen, she knew that Jemma could never love her in return, not after everything she had done.

 

Jemma stops, looking into Daisy’s tear filled eyes, she sighs, “You still are, aren't you? In love with me that is.”

 

Daisy nods. Not meeting Jemma’s gaze.

 

Jemma sighs, not sure what to even say. A silence takes falls between the two of them.

 

“Go on, tell me,” Daisy whispers, tears running down her face, leaving tear tracks in the dust, “Tell me you don’t love me.”

 

Jemma is completely shocked. She blinks a few times, _of course I love you!_ She wants to scream back. _I’ve loved you since before you ever left. I've loved you since you were still Skye. I've loved you since the day you stepped foot on the Bus. I dream every day of when I get to hold you and call you mine._

 

But instead of saying any of her thoughts, Jemma closes the space between them, drops to her knees, and her lips crash into Daisy’s, her hands braced on her shoulders.

 

Daisy initially reacts in shock, gasping, partially because the impact of Jemma amplifies the pain in her ribs, and partially because she can't believe that this is actually happening.

 

Then, after the wave of pain and shock has passed, Daisy returns the kiss with equal fervor. Kissing Jemma is better than Daisy could have ever imagined or daydreamed about. And while it hurts her most recent injuries, she knows that Jemma is being nothing but gentle and soft. Only Doctor Jemma Simmons could be soft and gentle, but frantic and passionate at the same time.

 

The kisses leave Daisy breathless, and she tries to get in air between the kisses, and Jemma pulls her lips away from Daisy’s.

 

“Oh goodness, Daisy I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that with your injuries…”

 

Daisy shakes her head, “no! No, I needed that. Can I just take a raincheck,” she stops for a second, trying to catch her breath, “Take a raincheck for when it doesn't hurt to breathe?”

 

Jemma chuckles, placing a soft kiss on the end of Daisy’s nose. “Of course,” she says, a blush creeping up into her cheeks, “You can cash it in when you're feeling more up to it, and when we aren't waiting to be rescued.”

 

Daisy nods gratefully, exhaustion showing on her face.

 

Jemma glances behind her and lays back on the ground, using the medical bag as a pillow. She pats the ground next to her, holding her arm out. Daisy smiles and slowly moves her way into Jemma’s left side. Daisy groans in pain as she settles into the comforting embrace.

 

“Fitz told me that we're cursed. I think it's just me,” Jemma says quietly, playing with a lock of Daisy’s hair.

 

“Why is that, Jem?”

 

“Well, Fitz and I spent 10 years dancing around each other, only to think we were in love, to find out we were just better as platonic soulmates. Then there’s Will, who,” her voice cracks, “died billions of miles from home trying to save my sorry ass. And then there's us,” Jemma trails off, sniffing. Daisy pushes herself up on her elbow with great effort, looking directly into Jemma’s eyes.

 

“What about us, Jemma?”

 

Jemma took a deep breath, “I keep thinking that I've completely blown my chances of ever being with you. After you changed, I thought I had blown any chance I had in the world of being with you. And then after I got back from Maveth, I was so wrapped up in my own trauma that I didn't see you struggling. And then after Lincoln, you left. And I thought I would never see you again. And then I let that grief of you leaving destroy any chance of happiness I had with Fitz…” Jemma trails off, trying to hold back the tears. Daisy lays her head back on Jemma’s chest.

 

“You never blew your chances with me, Jem. It was always there. I just, I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I haven't told you how I feel before now, I should have told you the first time I thought that I had feelings for you.”

 

“When was that?”

 

“Remember when you jumped off the Bus, and Ward jumped out after you to save you? Yeah. It was then,” she stops for a moment to take a breath, her ribs are aching terribly now, and taking a breath has gotten more labor intensive. It hurts significantly more now, and it seems to take more effort to expel the air she's drawn in.

 

“Oh Daisy, why didn't you say something?” Jemma wraps her arms around Daisy carefully, cradling her closer to her chest.

 

“Because I didn't understand the feelings I was having. I didn't know that I was… that I was…”

 

“That you’re gay?” Jemma offers softly.

 

“Yeah, that, but not completely gay, like half gay? A quarter gay?” Daisy turns into Jemma’s shirt to hide her blush. “Sorry, I'm not good with words,” she mutters, muffled by Jemma’s shirt.

 

Jemma laughs, “there’s a word for that Dais, it’s ‘bisexual’.”

 

Daisy groans into Jemma’s chest. She picks her head up to look at Jemma, “I know, but that word, just, it makes me feel so… I don't know, _dirty._ Like there’s something wrong with me, ya know?”

 

Jemma sighs, “I know the feeling. Believe me. I've known that I was bisexual since I was in my teens at the Academy. Sometimes the reactions that people have are,” she pauses, weighing her words, “unsavory. But there is nothing wrong with you Daisy. I promise,” Jemma runs her hands through Daisy’s hair comfortingly, glad that she can finally have this conversation with her best friend.

 

Daisy goes quiet, and it worries Jemma a little bit. The expansion of the other woman’s chest against hers feels _wrong._ The breaths are too fast, too shallow. She knows she needs to keep Daisy talking. 

“Hey Daisy, when did you figure these feelings out?”

 

When Daisy doesn't respond immediately, Jemma rubs Daisy’s back in circles a few times.  Daisy mumbles incoherently in response. A stab of panic stabs Jemma’s heart.

 

“Daisy?” Jemma questions more firmly, rubbing Daisy’s back again. Her heart leaps into her throat when Daisy fails to answer and becomes dead weight against her side. Jemma sits up and rolls the now unconscious Daisy onto her back. The Inhuman’s breathing is ragged and fast, and her sweat covered brow is furrowed in pain in her unconsciousness. Her lips are starting to tinge blue.

Jemma presses her fingers into Daisy’s neck to find a pulse. She finds one, but it is weaker and faster than she would like.

 

“Dammit, Daisy!” Jemma murmurs, “Daisy, can you hear me?”

 

When she again gets no response, Jemma quickly rubs her knuckles over Daisy’s sternum, breathing out a sigh of relief when Daisy pulls away from the stimuli. Jemma then adjusts Daisy on the ground and tilts her head back, opening up her airway. She leans forward and listens to Daisy’s overly fast breathing, and she hears a telltale crackle on an exhale.

 

Jemma swears out loud, she taps on the swollen left side of Daisy’s chest, and hears a resounding thump, and Daisy groans in pain again.

 

Jemma starts to swear again, now knowing that Daisy’s lung has collapsed.

 

Jemma scrambles to get to the damaged medical bag, hoping that at least one pneumothorax kit remains in the pockets.. She moves quickly, knowing that Daisy is in serious danger of going into respiratory arrest, and Jemma doesn't know if she can get her going again with a collapsed lung.

 

Jemma pulls the bag to her, and rummages through the torn bag, yelling in triumph when she is finds an undamaged pneumothorax kit. Jemma flips the Dr. Simmons switch, and is back kneeling next to her injured friend in a heartbeat.

Jemma pulls open Daisy’s jacket and cuts her undershirt with a pair of bent scissors to get access to her injuries.

 

Jemma can hear her heartbeat in her ears as she palpates on Daisy’s chest for the 3rd intercostal space near her collarbone. She wishes she were in a more sterile environment, but she knows that she could be in major danger of losing Daisy if the collapsed lung progressed further.

 

Jemma lines up the needle in the space between Daisy’s ribs and pushes straight down. Daisy flinches in pain, and Jemma hears a rush of air escape from the needle with a hiss.

 

Jemma lets out a breath of air that she didn't know she was holding. She busies herself setting up the one way valve and tapes the tubing to Daisy’s chest. Each exhale causes more air to be expelled from Daisy’s chest.

 

Within 5 minutes, Daisy’s breathing is better. Jemma knows she isn't out of the woods yet, that Daisy needs some more serious medical treatment, but this will work until Jemma can get her back to the Playground.

 

It has to. Jemma has so much more to say to Daisy.

 

*

 

Jemma sits next to Daisy’s bed in medical, holding her hand as she sleeps.

 

Daisy still has a chest tube in her side, keeping her healing lung from collapsing again, and she is still on intermittent oxygen therapy. She hasn't woken up yet, and it's been 3 days.

 

But Jemma keeps a vigil beside Daisy’s bed, ever since she was medically cleared herself, she sits in a crappy plastic chair, holding her hand and reads to her, or just writes her reports (Jemma’s not yet cleared for duty, leaving her to catch up on some long neglected paperwork).

 

Jemma just waits, because, true to her life, Jemma never got to tell Daisy how she really felt with words. And she thinks that she finally has the words now.

 

Daisy comes back to consciousness slowly, starting with a soft groan as the pain sets back into her body. Jemma stops writing her purchase order and looks at her friend stirring in the bed.

 

Daisy rubs at her face, pulling at the nasal cannula wrapped around her head and under her nose.

 

“Daisy, leave that on. You need it,” Jemma says as she pushes Daisy’s hand away from the plastic tubing. Daisy groans and mumbles a few unintelligible words.

 

“What was that?”

 

“It itches,” Daisy says a little more clearly, blinking her eyes open, and then closing them against the lights. Jemma reaches up and turns down the overhead lights.

 

“You're on a pretty high dose of morphine, remember how it makes you itch?” She asks Daisy, and Daisy nods sluggishly.

 

“Explains the wiggles,” Daisy mumbles softly. Jemma cracks a smile. She had forgotten how amusing Daisy was on pain medicine. She reaches down and grabs Daisy’s hand, rubbing her fingers between her own.

 

“Do you remember what happened, Daisy?” Jemma asks.

 

Daisy nods, “Unfortunately, yes,” she mutters. “It sucked.”

 

“Daisy, why didn't you tell me that breathing was getting so difficult?” Jemma asks, tears filling her eyes.

 

Daisy takes a deep breath and swallows a few times before she is able to reply, “I didn't want you to worry. I was managing to breathe okay.”

 

Jemma scowls, “Until you couldn't, and you passed out on me, Daisy.” Jemma leans forward and rests her forehead on Daisy’s bed, not letting go of Daisy’s hand.

 

Daisy blinks heavily, trying to get her thoughts together through the morphine. She squeezes Jemma’s hand, causing Jemma to turn her head too see her friend.

 

“I'm sorry, Jem. I really didn't notice it, I was a little bit distracted by, well,” she raises her eyebrows suggestively, “You know…”

 

Jemma laughs a little. She’s nervous for what needs to come next, and even if Daisy isn't entirely with it, Jemma needs to tell her. She needs to tell her that the feelings are returned.

 

She needs to tell Daisy that she’s in love with her, too.

 

Yet again, Jemma is inturrupted in her confession by Daisy’s doctor coming in to check on his now conscious patient. Jemma sighs in frustration and steps away from the bed, letting Daisy’s hand fall to the bed. 

Jemma watches in concern from the door as the medical medical staff listen to Daisy’s chest, prodding her and asking questions that Daisy can barely comprehend in her drugged state. 

The doctor adjusts Daisy’s oxygen flow and gives her a dose of pain medication before slipping out the door past Jemma. He nods once at her and heads back down the hallway to the rest of the medical floor. 

Jemma slips back into her spot next to Daisy, picking up the other woman’s hand. Daisy looks back at Jemma with glassy, far off eyes. 

“Hey Daisy, are you with it enough for us to finish our conversation? The one from before,” Jemma fidgets her feet around.

 Daisy looks up into Jemma’s eyes, her eyes are glassy, but not as far off as they were before. She takes a few breaths, “I can be, if I need to be.” She smiles, and her eyes brighten  a little.

Jemma takes a deep breath.  

“Daisy,” Jemma says, eyes shining with unshed tears, “I do love you. I've always loved you. I loved you when you were the girl in the van, and I love you now as the hero in the gauntlets. And there's nothing you can do to ever change it.”

Daisy blinks a few times, trying to process everything that was just said. She scoots her body as far left as she can get on the narrow bed without bumping her chest tube on the railing. She pats the bed next to her. “Stay?” She says softly.

Jemma smiles softly. She reaches down and pulls off her shoes. Very gingerly, Jemma climbs into the bed next to Daisy. She lies on her back, sliding an arm under Daisy’s head, trying to be careful of Daisy’s oxygen tubes and intravenous lines. With Jemma’s help, Daisy rolls to her good side and curls into Jemma’s side, much like they had been in the field.

“Jemma?” Daisy asks, closing her eyes again. It's difficult for her to get comfortable, but how she's laying here, curled up into Jemma’s side, makes the discomfort not as noticeable.

“Yes, Daisy?” Jemma rubs little circles on her back and it starts to coax Daisy back into sleep.

“I love you,” Daisy murmurs into Jemma’s side, looking up into Jemma’s eyes.

Jemma leans down and kisses Daisy gently on the nose, not quite able to reach her lips without jostling the injured woman. “I love you, too, Daisy.”

Daisy dozes back into sleep, and Jemma isn't that far behind her.

 

And that's how Coulson finds the two of them, tangled together in the hospital bed, and he decides that whatever is was that he came into the room to ask Jemma can wait.

 

But not before he snaps a picture.

 


	7. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a day late! But life got a little ahead of me!
> 
> Here's he last chapter, free day. (AKA they finally get together)

Chapter 7: Celebrations

 

*

 

Daisy wakes with a start, groaning slightly as she jostles her still healing body. She lays in her bed in her bunk, Jemma wrapped around her body, listening to the other woman’s calm breathing against the back of her shoulder, her warm breath tickling the surface of her skin.

 

It’s been 2 weeks since the disastrous mission to the factory, two weeks since she and Jemma were finally able to discuss their feelings, and Daisy wishes that there had been more of a resolution of the matter. The feelings were confessed, acknowledged instead of burrowed deep inside of them, festering, but now that the feelings were out in the open, nothing more had come of them yet.

 

She's been out of medical for a week, and her ribs still ache deeply, sometimes taking a breath hurts her actual lung instead of her ribs. It still doesn't hurt as much as the run around that Jemma seems to be giving her about the two of them.

She doesn't think it's on purpose, she thinks that Jemma doesn't even realize that she's doing it, but despite Jemma being around Daisy at every hour of the day that she can be, she avoids the subject of “what now?” And it hurts Daisy, but she tries to be flexible for Jemma. The woman obviously wants to spend time with her, but isn't sure what that makes them.

 

It would be less confusing if Jemma was less affectionate to Daisy when it was just the two of them. Daisy would usually get a quick kiss in greeting when Jemma would come to check on her in medical, (it wasn't just the collapsed lung that would take her breath away), and Daisy was almost certain that she hadn't gotten a moment of sleep that didn't feature Jemma Simmons hogging the covers since being liberated from the med bay. The physical contact is nice, it’s validating. It validates her feelings for Jemma, it validates that Jemma has feelings for her, and it validates the questioning that Daisy has been doing for so many years about her sexuality.

 

But there's still the pain of uncertainty in not knowing what Jemma really wants her to be, wants she wants _them_ to be. It causes a coil of doubt and anxiety to build up in Daisy’s chest when she thinks about it.

 

Jemma stirs and takes a deep breath. Daisy grins and carefully rolls over to face her, careful as she lays on her injured left side. She places a small kiss on the end of Jemma’s nose. Jemma smiles and pulls Daisy closer to her. “Good morning, Daisy,” she murmurs sleepily. Daisy snuggles into Jemma’s chest, breathing deeply to take in her scent.

 

Jemma reaches behind her to pick up her cell phone, squinting against the bright light of the screen. “It's time to get up, Daisy,” she murmurs, “It’s 6:45, and you have an appointment at 7:30 to get those stitches out!”

 

Daisy groans into Jemma’s shoulder. Jemma had been awake for a total of maybe 30 seconds, and she's already chipper. Daisy needed at least an hour and maybe an entire pot of coffee to achieve that in the morning.

 

Jemma lays a kiss on Daisy’s forehead and pulls away from the warmth of the bed. Daisy groans again and flops herself on the now empty side of the bed, watching as Jemma disappears into Daisy’s ensuite bathroom to change into her clean clothes that she had brought from her apartment.

 

Daisy lies on her stomach for a few minutes, enjoying the smell of Jemma on her bed. Day dreaming about the things that she was planning on doing with Jemma when she was back at full strength.

 

Jemma brings her a glass of water and two pills, bone regeneration pill and a pain killer (which Daisy had not wanted to take after being released, claiming that good old ibuprofen and ice would take care of her pain, but Jemma had overruled her). Daisy swallows the pills with a few swallows of water and grimaces, she's tired of the taste of pills.

 

“Oh it's not that bad, Daisy,” Jemma scolds playfully. She's wearing a very sensible white button down shirt under a navy cardigan sweater. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail. There’s something about Jemma in a cardigan that gets at Daisy. It makes butterflies flutter around her stomach, especially when she smiles at her.

 

“Now come on, we need to get moving!”

 

Daisy groans loudly, lamenting each movement as she rolls out of her warm and soft bed. She grumps her way around the room, collecting a clean pair of jeans, a black tank top, and her favorite flannel shirt. It takes her longer to get herself dressed due to her still healing injuries.

 

*

Jemma supervises the lab technicians as they take a few films of Daisy’s chest, checking for any excess air in the pleural space that could cause another lung collapse, and to check how the breaks on Daisy’s ribs were healing. Jemma smiles when she looks at the films, “Everything looks really good, Daisy. You're healing up nicely!”

 

Jemma is nothing but gentle as she cuts the stitches out of Daisy’s side. Her fingers graze Daisy’s skin every so often, and it takes a lot of Daisy’s self control not to shiver at her touch.

 

Gathering together her courage, Daisy turns her head to look at her friend, “Sooooo,” she starts, pulling out her “smooth voice”, “Now that I seem to be medically sound, what do you say about you and me, going off base for a nice dinner?”

 

Jemma stops removing stitches for a moment with a soft “Oh.” She looks at Daisy in the eyes for a moment, and then looks away. She takes the last stitch out of Daisy’s side and starts taking her gloves off.

 

Jemma takes a deep breath panicking, “I don't know, Daisy.”

 

Daisy doesn't say anything. She waits for Jemma to continue her statement, but it doesn't come. She just sits up, pulls her tank top down over the newly bandaged wound, and she moves to leave.

 

After everything they've been in the last two weeks, especially the last week, and Daisy feels completely betrayed.

 

“Jemma, I need you to tell me what you need me to be,” Daisy almost whispers, her head hung in hurt. She glances back at the woman fleetingly, and then walks out of the medical exam room, tossing her flannel shirt over her shoulder.

 

*

 

The doctor clears Daisy for light duty (paperwork) after her stitches came out, so she plans on spending the day writing reports on different missions that she has been putting off for occasions such as this.

 

She spends the majority of the day in her bunk, sitting at her desk and writing. She doesn't see Jemma at all during that time, only receiving a text message at 11:30am to take her pain medicine. Daisy grumbles and complies with the instructions. (Jemma would find out if she didn't take it, she always does).

 

Daisy shuffles through the paperwork, creating piles of what tasks need to be done, and in what order she should procrastinate them. She comes across a form, HR Form 15A: Declaration of Relationship with Fellow Agent.

 

Daisy’s heart drops into her stomach. It’s the form that she meant to file nearly a year ago, when she was with Lincoln, but she had barely managed to fill in her information into the form.

 

Her eyes fill with tears, and Daisy pushes the form to the bottom of the pile. That's something she isn't ready to tackle quite yet. Not a wound that is totally healed from losing Lincoln, and not a wound she's willing to acknowledge yet with Jemma.

 

Daisy works for another few hours, only to be stopped by a rolling growl in her stomach. She laughs out loud and decides she needs to take a break for dinner.

 

Daisy heads to the kitchen, and boils herself some pasta to cover in Parmesan cheese. She's eating happily, browsing Reddit, when Jemma comes up beside her at the counter. Daisy sighs deeply and goes to stand and move, not sure if she wants to talk just yet.

 

“Wait Daisy, hold on. I told Fitz about  what happened in the factory. I told him about us being together, Daisy,” Jemma deadpans. Daisy drops her fork in shock, looking directly at Jemma.

 

“And…?”

 

Jemma sighs deeply, a look of pain on her face, “He said ‘I know’ and hasn't said a word to me in a week and a half. He’s- he's processing what I told him.”

 

Daisy isn't sure how to respond. She picks her fork up and pushes her pasta around in circles on her plate. It explained a few things. She had been in the hospital a week and a half ago, and Fitz had come to see her then, but he was distracted, a little far away. She sighs. “He hates me now, doesn't he?” She asks softly.

 

Jemma reaches over and grabs Daisy’s hand. “No, no. Fitz could never hate you. He's processing. He has some trouble understanding social situations sometimes.”

 

Daisy nods, she knows how Fitz is, she loves him for it, but she's confused. “What does this have to do with what you need from me?” She asks, cutting right to the chase.

 

“I need you to understand why I'm hesitating about this, about us. I need you to know that I need to speak to Fitz before this comes what I want, what we want it to be, Daisy.”

 

Daisy nods once, understanding what Jemma needs. “Are you staying tonight?” She asks finally.

Jemma smiles and nods. “I'm planning on it, if that's alright with you.”

 

Daisy grins and steals a kiss on Jemma’s nose. Jemma giggles and returns the favor.

 

(What neither of them notice is Fitz stop in the doorway to the kitchen, turn around, and walk away.)

 

*

 

Jemma is anxious.

 

She stands outside of one of the labs later that night, watching as Fitz moves around fiddling with this or tightening a screw here, working with his hands. Jemma takes a deep breath and knocks on the wall.

 

Fitz jumps and turns around, ready to yell, before he seems Jemma. “Doctor Simmons,” he says, nodding curtly.

 

Jemma sighs, “Please don't give me that Fitz. Can we talk?”

 

Fitz puts his gadget down and places his hands on the table. “What is there to talk about, Jemma? You and Daisy finally admitted your feelings to each other, Mack lost $25, and you're going to live happily ever after. There's not a place where I come in here,” he starts, moving to pick up his tools again.

 

Jemma throws her hands up in exasperation, “What about the part where you're my best friend, Fitz? You can't seriously turn on me now, after 10 years, and other relationships. I need you, Fitz… please.”

 

Fitz looks away from Jemma for a moment. They’d been over these conversations after they decided they didn't work, and he knew it was just his hurt talking. Fitz pushes himself away from his station

and walks around to be near Jemma.

 

“You know, it hurt when I realized that you’re not in love with me. But nothing can compare to the pain I felt when I saw you fall in love with her,” he starts, putting his hands on Jemma’s shoulders.

 

“ And I lashed out at her when I saw her again after Mack and I picked her up in LA. But I'm past that now. I'm past that hurt. I'm sorry that we didn't work out, Jemma. I really am. But I see in your eyes the joy and love that I felt when I first fell in love with you, when you're with her, or even just thinking about her. And I'm okay with that. You've been my best friend for more than 10 years, and I don't think that I could ever stand to lose that. I just want you to be happy. I love you that much.”

 

Unshed tears well up in Jemma’s eyes and she charges forward and embraces him. Fitz smiles and wraps his arms around Jemma.

 

“She asked me out to dinner this morning, Fitz,” Jemma says into his shoulder.

 

Fitz smiles and rubs his best friend’s back. “And what did you say?” He asks, knowing where this was leading.

 

“I said ‘Oh, I don't know’, Fitz.”

 

The chuckles start quietly in Fitz's chest, rumbling under Jemma’s ear. She gently taps his chest, scolding him for laughing at her. But Fitz can't contain himself, and he's soon full on laughing, his head tilted back and tears streaming down his face.

 

*

 

Daisy finds that she is incredibly more comfortable now that the stitches have been taken out of her chest. She still can't pull in a deep breath all of the time, and the area on the front of her around where Jemma had to insert the decompression needle is still very tender and bruised, but the lack of discomfort from having the pull of itchy stitches in her side is a huge improvement.

 

Daisy is already in her pajamas and curled up in bed when her door opens and Jemma slips into the room.

 

“Hello, Daisy!” She says cheerfully. It causes butterflies in Daisy’s stomach. She smiles and pats the bed next to her.

 

Jemma slips her shoes off, not bothering to change her pajamas. She climbs into the bed and rolls onto Daisy, straddling her hips. Daisy yelps in surprise, “Hey there, Jemma!”

 

Jemma chuckles and kisses Daisy, placing her hands on both sides of her head. “How do you feel about me cashing in that rain check?” She says in a low, sultry voice. Daisy’s eyes bulge slightly as she nods, fidgeting her legs as a pool of warmth starts growing between them.

 

Jemma notices the fidgets and slides her knee up between Daisy’s legs and smiles at the response on the woman lying under her. She gently pushes her lips to Daisy’s pulse point and chuckles when Daisy fidgets more.

 

Jemma's hands are very gentle as her hands explore Daisy’s body and leaves her breathless (okay this time it is _definitely_ not the chest injuries). Jemma drops down beside Daisy and pulls her up against her bare chest.

 

“Is that dinner invitation still open, Daisy?” Jemma asks softly, smiling.

 

Daisy picks her head up and plants a kiss on Jemma’s lips. “You bet your sweet ass it is!”

 

*

 

Early The next morning, after a night of very little sleep, Jemma slips out of Daisy’s room, looking tousled and tired, to go shower in the nearby showers.

 

Agents Piper and Davis see Jemma leaving as they round the corner to head to the gym. Piper elbows Davis in the ribs, “You so owe me $100,” she whispers.

 

And, of course, by noon, everyone in the base knows that Agents Daisy Johnson and Jemma Simmons are _finally_ together.

  


**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Daisy Johnson appreciation week. 
> 
> Day One: Season 1 Skye  
> Day Two: Season 2 Skye  
> Day Three: Season 3 Daisy  
> Day Four: Season 4 Daisy  
> Day five: favorite Daisy Friendship  
> Day Six: Favorite Daisy Ship  
> Day seven: Free day!
> 
> I will be posting one chapter per day this week.


End file.
